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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182416">Against the stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Schrodinger/pseuds/Aurora_Schrodinger'>Aurora_Schrodinger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:48:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Schrodinger/pseuds/Aurora_Schrodinger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Focused on Gale and Rayne, a Cleric of Mystra who was chosen to follow the mysterious mage of Waterdeep in her sacred quest. Will they find a way to embrace the little things that are more important than kingdoms, or will they be consumed by ambition and jealousy?</p><p>It follows the events of the game in non chronological order. Previously Mind over Matter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gale (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Gale/Main Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In the darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gale clutched the amulet around his neck and whispered a few words. The darkness around him dissipated, as four bright lights floated around him and coalesced in a humanoid shape. A shape he so much desired to see. It had the same dancing stride, graceful and secure even over the slippery rocks of the Underdark.</p><p>He didn’t need the amulet, he knew how to cast dancing lights. Clinging to it gave him comfort, though. He could see her eyes shimmering with campfire and tears as she put it around his neck, and she fumbled to secure the clasp. Her fingers were usually so nimble, so sure.</p><p>“Please, I know you want to leave all valuable equipment here, but bring this at least,” she said with a broken voice, “I cannot bear the thought of you alone down there. You cannot see in the dark, and there are no stars to guide you.”</p><p>For the first time since he remembered, Gale had no words to share. He brushed his fingers on her wet cheek, and as he did that, she melted again in a sob, and sank her face in his chest. He held her close to him, in silence, until the dark hunger inside him threatened to swallow her whole. He could feel it rising in his throat and his shoulder slipping through his fingers whenever he lowered his guard. He wouldn’t be able to control it for much longer. It already took all his focus to keep it all inside. He backed away and looked her in the eyes.</p><p>“Rayne, <em>please</em>,” he said.</p><p>She nodded and sat back up, her fingers lingering on his lap as she tried not to let him go. “I need you to do me a favour,” she said after a heavy eternity of silence.</p><p>“Anything,” he replied.</p><p>“Stay close to me until I fall asleep, and then leave before I awake.”</p><p>And so he did.</p><p>The cavern was barely illuminated by the bioluminescence of the flora and by his own incantation, which hiked in front of him without a care. Spells had no feelings, nor memories. It was just a shape, a fragment, a faint shell of the woman he loved. She would move on, he repeated to himself as his stomach contorted and the darkness inside him quivered in pleasure and expectation. The last memory she would retain of him would be that of the sweet nothings he whispered in her ear as she fell asleep, and of him as a whole man, not the shadow he had become in these few hours of travelling below the earth.</p><p>It took all his energy to leave the inhabited part of the underground they had already explored, and leave behind the last glimmer of civilisation. It was true that he couldn’t see well in the dark, but what he could see was beautiful. They explored the small cave he found himself in a week ago or so. Thinking of that time, when he still thought he could defeat the monster growing inside him, this bottomless, craving maw, trying to escape him from inside out, forced a sigh out of him. How much he had lost, doubting his feelings for Rayne instead of enjoying the time they had? How frivolous was his attachment to a goddess that spurned him, and how much happiness did he let go for it? He had chosen the place carefully. He knew nobody lived closeby, and there was nothing of interest for anyone. Nobody else would pay the price of his mistake. The cave itself was beautiful. They had camped here. He stood by the cold ashes of the fire they left behind and knelt. The ceiling was speckled in shining rocks that resembled the stars on the surface. He remembered looking at them while Rayne and he made love, inebriated by her kisses and caresses, and thinking of how lucky he was to have been able to witness so much beauty all at once. This was a good place to die. Nobody else would see this beautiful sky under the earth ever again, but it was the last vain indulgence of a dying man. One last gift to himself before the end.</p><p>He looked at the rocky stars on the ceiling, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that arose from his chest. It was an urge, hurling behind his throat and in the middle of his chest. Pressing, screeching, clawing its way out. The pain became almost unbearable and he found himself gagging, his mouth open and this horrifying wheezing sound that came from inside. He looked straight ahead, where the dancing light stood, looking at him in a cold, meaningless stare, and he could imagine its features morphing into the tender sweet smile that he so longed to see in this moment. And as the darkness erupted from his chest and swallowed him, behind the soothing image of the woman he loved, he saw a pair of eyes staring at him. They were infinite wells of shadow and wit, in which you could lose your soul and sanity. And in his last dreadful moment of consciousness, he knew that she had been waiting patiently in the shadows for this moment to happen, for this monster to be finally unleashed into her service. They were the eyes of a goddess.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rayne and Gale spend a lonely night at camp, right after surviving the Nautiloid's crash.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rayne gathered her knees to her chest, waiting for the fire to warm her bare feet. The wizard was laying on the other side of the campfire, turning his back to her. His chest moved to the rhythm of his breath. Was he already sleeping? She could not tell. He was right. What a difference a day made. They went through hell, literally, and came back out only to get stranded on this beach in the middle of nowhere, monsters in the making. Was she turning already? She brushed her hand on her jaw and chin. No tentacles yet. For now. How long did she have left? Would she fail her goddess' quest? Her soul would be forfait, if she turned. No afterlife in the eyes of the Lady for her. A sense of anxiety and dread crawled through her spine to her shoulders and enveloped her. The man turned around in the eerie silence of the moonless night and looked at her. He wasn’t sleeping after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t sleep?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up and shook his head. “Perhaps I could take guard in your stead, I would gladly relieve you, you look like sleep would benefit you,” she felt his eyes linger on her face. Did she look so tired?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’d be able to sleep either,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you terrified that you might turn at any moment?” he asked, lighthearted, but she could tell there was a hint of fear behind his bravado.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated, as he probably did not expect such a blunt answer. Silence fell between the two lonely inhabitants of the camp, as he looked straight at her through the fire. He nodded too. Then stood up and approached her bedroll, “Do you mind?” he asked. He sat down next to her as she moved back to make space for him. He examined her face, his gaze felt almost palpable in the odd intimacy of the grove they were camping in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I?” he asked, extending a hand towards her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His touch was warm and soft, his hands were delicate and looked like they never saw hard labour, his nails clean and clipped. Only his fingertips showed the unevenness of the calluses he probably had from writing on parchment for hours and hours. He examined her with a clinical and expert eye and frowned. Did he find something unusual?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see signs of the transformation yet,” he concluded with a smile, “we should be safe for a while longer.” He did not sound as sure as cocky as during the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not get a chance to ask you, you mentioned you are a cleric,” he said, “what deity do you follow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mystra,” she whispered, “the lady of mysteries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flashed up to look at her. She could not read his expression. Pain? Stupor? It was certainly not a reaction she was used to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How unusual,” he commented, “I can’t say I encountered many so devoted as to dedicate their lives to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she said, rocking gently towards the fire, “the weave is in everything we breathe and do, in every spell, and every trick. In every object that allows us to live comfortable and safe lives. Is it so odd that someone would be grateful enough to take vows for her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” he said, gazing at her. His face was half in the shadow and half lightened by the fire. He was so hard to read but there was something there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a wizard, Gale, surely you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head and a sour smile tinted his face, as he faced the fire, “More than you could ever imagine,” he said. Then he became unusually quiet compared to what she experienced so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let him broil in his thoughts until he turned around towards her again. “What do you say about getting some rest? I’ll wake you up when it’s time to move again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, and laid on her bedroll. He sat next to her and his presence comforted her enough to fall fast asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breeze caressed her naked shoulders and it was midnight. She knew the sound of cicadas by heart. She looked up and a full moon shone in the sky, illuminating the hilltop she was standing on. In front of her a man. She smelled and tasted the aroma of rosewater and the sense of tranquillity that her goddess brought to her whenever she was present. She had been following him for quite a long time, climbing that hill night after night. Why her goddess teased her, leading her in this quest, she did not know. He knew his shoulders by heart now. As she got closer, for the first time since the dreams started, he didn’t move away. He stood in front of her, next to the precipice. As he turned around, she recognised his profile, his shoulder-length hair and his deep, sweet brown eyes. It was the wizard she met today, Gale. Their eyes met, and when they did, the earth crumbled under their feet. He saw his eyes widen in terror, and they both plummeted into the dark as the moon in the sky melted away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She woke up to the smell of roasted fish.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Where love lays</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What remains the morning after is the sense of loss and the need for closure. What will Rayne do after the loss of her loved one?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She could not feel anything. She looked at the dying embers of the fire and tried to fill her mind with something. A rhyme, an incantation, a prayer. Nothing surfaced. The camp was silent. Not even Wyll or Lae’zel dared to speak. Nobody had approached her since she woke up and sat where she had laid, empty and still like a spent marionette. It was as if the world did not want to restart. Her world did not want to restart. She would have gagged if she had the energy, nausea filling up her guts at any attempt to move. Her eyes were dry. They had spent all their tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand squeezed her shoulder and she turned around to face Shadowheart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go back to our quest, he…” she hesitated, “he would have wanted you to continue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne tilted her head and looked back at the ember. Her burning eyes seemed to have refilled again and she knew tears would soon rain again on her cheeks. She did not want her friend to see. It hurt even to move her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You all move forward, I will join you tomorrow after you rest,” she whisked her tail as Shadowheart started to argue and looked at her with a frown, “you know I can’t move on before I take care of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know where he went?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course she did. Gale had not shut up about the cave where they camped a week ago since they left it. The marvellous stones encroached in the dark rocks, he said, were a type of semi-precious stone that could be used as a component to cast light. And they looked like the starry sky, didn’t they? Such a romantic view under which they could make love. So much beauty, all at once, he said, as his hand stroked her neck and her breast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so peaceful then. They thought they could defeat the world together. She held back the tears as she encountered a dark, thick fog that raised from the stone, dampening the bioluminescence of the flora of this part of the tunnels. Worse, there was no more bioluminescent flora at all. There was only darkness and ash, everything else had been consumed. She tried to touch it, and tendrils of dark magic lashed at her hand, leaving a burning mark that looked superficial, but burned as if it was consuming her flesh, her bone, her soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knelt and prayed to Mystra to protect her from the darkness, unable to control the tears. Let me bring your chosen one home, she prayed, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt a warm light spark inside of her, of silver and rosewater. Her goddess was with her. She held her in her arms, enveloping like in the embrace of a mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ventured, weary at first, then steadier, into the darkness. She could see nothing but the light of her goddess, which guided her firmly, vanquishing the shadows around her and mending the torn weave. At times she felt the shadows fight back, and she faltered, but the warm light inside her pushed her forward, into the heart of that all consuming twilight. By the time she reached the cave, Mystra had been mending the weave as she went, and most of the shadows had dissipated. She touched her forehead to find it drenched in sweat and started to feel light on her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cave was nothing as she remembered it. There were no stars in the sky, there was no magic, here, nothing to bring back her good memories of him. There was no body. She pressed her eyelid shut to stop the tears again, but a sob escaped her mouth and resonated in the empty stone tomb. She knelt at its centre, and tried to sense something, anything, even a strand of the soul of her loved one. Nothing. Just the silence of her own despair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you, Gale?” she whispered, and only the echo of her voice replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed her hair in her hands and clenched them, unable to sit anymore, she crouched down almost touching the ground with her shaved horns. And as she let her panic take over, the darkness swallowed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was on the hill, alone. The faceless black moon stared at her from a spiteful sky. Everything was dark, and twisted, and dead. In the desolation, a small silver flame flickered where usually Gale’s figure stood. It grew and shone brighter as she transmuted into a humanoid face. A welcoming smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come, my child,” said a velvety voice that sounded like thousands of voices of wisdom and argent, at once, “you are broken, defeated, but not all is lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should I do, Mystra? I failed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goddess shook her head and pointed her finger at the inklike sky. “Only at night the stars come out and show us the way, my child. She who loves the stars need not fear the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne looked up and saw the glimmer of the stars be borne of the darkness of the new moon. One at a time they showed her the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was back in the cave. Her mouth agape as the darkness dispersed around her without harm. Without realising it she had raised her head and looked at the cavern’s sky. For a moment she thought it was a trick of her mind, so wishful of hope that it could not see reason anymore. But then the light shone brighter, reflecting on the glassy rock. It was but a faint trace, but it did belong to Gale’s spirit. She knew before she felt it. His smile that could melt any fear, the spark in his eyes when he learnt something new. The wisp flew away, and she followed, stumbling on her own legs and ignoring the searing pain from the tendrils of shadows that tried to hold her back and bring her back to the cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ran on the rocks, jumped across chasms, unstoppable. She ran until she lost track of the wisp of soul that she so much cherished. It was too fast. And as she almost lost any hope, perched on a cliff that overlooked a subterranean lake, she looked down and saw her friends by the shore, next to a boat. They were idle, waiting for her? She did not hesitate and slid down. The chase had started.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Rayne's Reverie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is <em> t'rac </em>, insanity!” yelled Lae’zel.</p><p>Rayne scanned the faces of her travel companions. None of them dared look her in the eyes except for Wyll. Astarion observed her casually from the back as you would a mouse who’s been caught in a trap and is at its predator’s mercy.</p><p>“I hate to agree with the frog,” said Shadowheart, “but this is the worst idea I’ve heard you come up with since we started travelling together.”</p><p>Lae’zel hissed something at the priestess of Shar and started pacing around them, kicking the dirt.</p><p>“I mean, darling,” interjected Astarion, “you cannot seriously ask us to…”</p><p>“Enough!” she screamed, interrupting the vampire spawn. The echo of her voice and the dripping and flowing of water were now the only sounds in the cavern. “I’ve stitched your wounds and healed you countless times, Lae’zel, and Gale had always had your back in battle, even when your own people attacked you, has he not?</p><p>“Shadowheart, I loved you as a sister since we met, and I never judged you or your faith, even if it’s so distant to mine. We drank wine and shared countless evenings together. Did we?</p><p>“You <em> fucking </em> drank my blood Astarion. Is your loyalty so <em> thin </em>?</p><p>“I have had your back since we started this trip, and you have taken from me, dismissed me, had me earn your trust, over and over. If it wasn’t for me and Gale, you’d have murdered each other countless times, and yet, despite all the odds, you are all here, standing and breathing. Now it is me asking for your help, you ungrateful shits!”</p><p>Then there was silence. Astarion and Shadowhearts exchanged a glance as Wyll approached her with a hug, that she backed away from, crossing her arm on her chest as tears ran on her cheeks. Wyll turned to the others.</p><p>“Look, friends, I get it that you all want to go to this tower and get rid of the tadpole, but wouldn’t it weird to leave Gale behind?” he said, “If Rayne says there’s a chance he’s still alive, we should help him.”</p><p>“Aren’t you eager to meet your mistress again, Wyll?” asked Astarion.</p><p>Wyll shuffled his weight from one foot to the other and put his arms on his hips. “We all have our baggage to deal with, Astarion,” he said, “What will you do when the sleeping potions Gale prepared for you run out? Will you care for him then?”</p><p>Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, “<em> Fine </em>, we go and save Gale. As you wish.”</p><p>Lae’zel sneered, “It is true that you stood by my side. I will honour your valour and follow you. But this is the last diversion from our purification. After, we go to the tower and then the creche. And if Gale has turned into a gha’ik <em> you will end him </em>.”</p><p>Rayne lowered her eyes and nodded. Her eyes stang.</p><p>“I cannot believe that we are doing this,” said Shadowheart, and she went to prepare the boat without adding more.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The vessel was unstable and moved way too much for Rayne’s tastes. They were following the wisp general direction, but it faded forward a long time ago. She had tried to scry it, but to no avail. She couldn’t focus enough. She hadn’t recovered yet from her goddess’ punishment, and her magic did not work as she expected it most of the time. She felt like a toddler trying to walk again. Was this how Gale felt when Mystra abandoned him?</p><p>Shadowheart stared in silence from the other side of the deck. “Why don’t you try your beau’s new little incantation?” she asked, “That might be a strong enough focus.”</p><p>“That’s… arcane magic, I don’t think I…”</p><p>“You are a priestess of Mystra, are you not? Maybe she’ll help you.”</p><p>“All right.”</p><p>Rayne reluctantly took out of her backpack a small white marble, and her eyes filled with tears. It had been Gale’s last gift. Something inestimable.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Look,” Gale said, extending his hands towards her, it looked like he had conjured a white rose that sparkled in the darkness of the cave, where the stones sparkled as a starry sky. It was beautiful, and it looked pretty but pointless.</p><p>“What am I looking at?” she asked.</p><p>“You are looking at Rayne’s Reverie!” he said, with the grandiose tone that he used to bullshit her.</p><p>“Is it a new variety of rose or?”</p><p>He was taken aback, “You told me white roses were your favourite right?”.</p><p>“They are,” she said, frowning, “you didn’t need to conjure one, I love you all the same.”</p><p>“Oh”, he scoffed, “This isn’t… You thought that I’d just conjure a rose for you?” he almost sounded offended, “This is…” he looked around, searching for the right words, “It’s my first original incantation. Archmages, usually...”</p><p>Rayne tilted her head, “I know that archmages create their own incantations, Gale,” she pointed at her chest, “cleric of Mystra, here.”</p><p>“Right, then you could, you know, pretend that you appreciate that I named my first original one after you.”</p><p>She couldn’t avoid smiling. “It’s really sweet.” Rayne crouched in front of him and hovered her hands above his, almost touching the white rose. The air tingled on her fingertips. It was the weave. It caressed her as water on a parched throat, as if someone painted it or sculpted it in this beautiful shape, and made a symphony with it.</p><p>Gale made a gesture and the rose opened between their hands as a real flower blooming in the darkness of the underdark.</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” she said.</p><p>“Hush, close your eyes,” he whispered.</p><p>As she did, the petals of the rose touched her fingertips, and in the darkness behind her eyelids, the weave composed a memory.</p><p>*</p><p>It was their first night together. His arms cradled her body, and she felt her skin through his fingertips, his lips whispering all the things he’d do into her ear, almost as if taken out of a book. She saw herself from Gale’s eyes, much more beautiful than what she was used to seeing in a mirror. “But what do <em> you </em>want, Gale?” her own voice asked. And she felt it as if it was in her chest. The sudden plunge of a falling heart. The confusion.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said, and for the first time he felt the words melt in his mind before reaching his throat.</p><p>“Let’s discover it together then,” she replied. Rayne felt her own lips kiss his, and a desire, a need inside his heart, that she never knew existed.</p><p>*</p><p>She opened her eyes and found Gale staring at her, back in the starry cave. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”</p><p>“Now you do.” He smiled. His hands vanished the rose with a swift gesture and only a white polished marble was left on his palm.</p><p>“Anyone can cast it, it’s a very simple incantation, it recalls memories as elven reverie does. With this marble" and he rolled it between his fingers, "you should be able to recall my memories specifically.”</p><p>She arched a brow. “This is arcane magic, Gale, I can’t…”</p><p>He winked, “You’ll figure something out,” and leaned in to kiss her.</p><p> </p><p>Rayne opened her eyes again, on the boat that was sailing in the darkest waters of the underdark. A blooming rose sat on her palms, shining in the loneliness of that eternal night. Shadowheart stared at her from beyond it.</p><p>“You’ve made it!” she said.</p><p>“I’m not supposed to…”</p><p>“Just… use it as a focus for clairvoyance,” she said, “what are you waiting for?”</p><p>She nodded and closed her eyes again. As the incantation made a thousand memories scroll through the back of her head, she felt Gale’s presence as strong as when he was with her. Beyond the limited scope of their physical forms, a wisp, a faint trace of what once was, calling her, leading her, waiting for her just beyond the distance her eyes could perceive. In front of it, a patch of land illuminated by Lights of Mystra. Beyond that a ruin, a temple? She could feel the weave coursing through it like a roaring fall, connecting the material plane to the goddess herself. Between her and the weave stream, a shadow. It was rotten and cursed but she’d recognise the shape of its shoulders and its stance among billions of others. She had dreamt of him, loved him, lost him, longed him. It was Gale.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The place where the light enters you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dark figure whose name was once Gale of Waterdeep slouched forward, extending his boney limbs covered in shadow towards the light. It was almost there. If only he could touch it, it would all go away. The burning of the flesh and the soul, the endless void that broke out of his chest. Mystra would fill it, wouldn’t she? She would soothe his cracking skin and the melting bone. She would appease the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunger</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Its feet moved with an excruciating slowness, lacking control and energy, but not resolve. It was indomitable, unyielding. It would feed. It would consume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it reached the unbearable light that was Mystra, embodied in the stream of Weave that ran across the temple, it touched the altar, and from the cracks in its ashen skin, light started to pour in. Finally, it would feed. It would consume it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t get her out of her head. He just couldn’t. It was exhausting and awkward. Gale had seen his focus crumble since the night he taught Rayne how to channel the Weave. A kiss, so vivid he could almost feel it touch his lips, almost feel her breath against his, her warmth. But he would not succumb to this. He had a goal. He wouldn’t be swayed from it. Although her lips did seem really soft. She was a cleric. Of Mystra, of all deities. It was absolutely ridiculous, inconceivable, and a little bit ironic if he had to be honest with himself. Her hair smelled of rosewater, it was so soft and curly, and dark as ink. He raised his eyes from the book, without moving his head. She was staring into the fire, pensive, her tail swaying in rhythm with the flames. What was she thinking about? He had to focus. He shut the book close and left the campfire. Maybe going to the stream would help? A bath? A nice cold bath would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around, searching in the dark for a spot where it seemed safe to enter the water, but of course, he could not see. It was dark. He breathed out slowly, and prepared to cast light on the riverbank, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around. It was Rayne. Her pale skin shone in the moonlight, her sweet eyes frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright Gale?” she asked, walking towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just needed a walk, I am fine,” he said without believing it himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re the only one around here who doesn’t have any baggage, your condition aside. I need you to hold it together, without your support I’ll crumble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only she knew. “You are too generous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, look, Astarion was throwing a fit this evening because his doublet got stained in goblin’s blood and I’m sure he’s having nightmares again. I don’t know if I could take another one of his glares. At least your sleep potion is helping with that. I mean it, it wouldn’t be the same without you. I need to know that you’re well and watching over me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale smiled. Rayne’s words, blabbered in a continuous solution and without pauses, ignited something in his heart. Not the dark abyss that he fended off everyday. Something else. He raised his hand almost without thinking, and caressed her forehead, where her horns had been filed. She backed away instinctively, and then moved forward again, almost easing his touch. His fingers ran through her hair, lifting it from her face, and brushed over the rough bone that emerged from her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did this happen, Rayne? Who did this to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lavender eyes looked into his, they sparkled. Was she going to cry?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the orphanage, they thought it would be easier to get me adopted if I looked more…” she searched for the right word, “human? They wanted me to pass as a half elf.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It must have brought you a lot of pain, I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and nodded. “They wanted to cut my tail too. I ran.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who would do such a thing to a child? He inhaled, and intended to say something, show his sympathy, but she opened her mouth to speak instead and he stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found myself in the streets, with no money and nowhere to sleep. It could have ended much worse. It was my dream to become a wizard, you know?” she smiled a bitter smile, and leaned closer to him, “but you know better than I how much spell components and the education to learn cost. I chose the faith, I chose to serve. I would have never been able to do the things I do without Mystra. She’s everything to me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale’s fingers trailed down her cheek to her jaw, in a caress. It felt like something broke inside him, and the starlight finally enlightened his heart again, through the cracks of the walls he built during the years. And in that moment he knew he would never let her go. And he knew that he would have to lie to her. And it rendered his heart open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the light crept in, dying consumed by the abyss inside, the creature that had been once Gale of Waterdeep shed a single tear. It sparkled in the faint glow of the Lights of Mystra that grew on the walls of the ruined temple. One single tear, the last spark of humanity the monster clinged to, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. But it would have never been enough to satiate the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the last light was about to leave its eyes, a voice called, from behind. It was a sound that revived the soul and reignited its slowing heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gale!” she screamed in the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature of shadow turned, almost snapping in two. There was a light in front of it, it outshone the Weave stream itself. It was silver, it was fire. It burned, and mended, and hurt.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The little things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rayne jumped off the boat as soon as it hit the shore. The cave she was in was full to the brim of Lights of Mystra, which drew a path towards the entrance of the temple. It was a building of light stone in an ocean of darkness. Astarion, Lae’zel and Wyll jumped just behind her, while Shadowheart stayed to guard the boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, do as I asked,” said Rayne, “Let me deal with him. If I fail you can slain him, well, both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, why would we do that?” asked Astarion, then he looked at her face, “Oh. You don’t plan on dying here, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might get corrupted, he might just consume me. We cannot know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tch. I will make sure you don’t get out of the temple breathing if anything happens to you,” said Lae’zel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne nodded. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wyll looked at her frowning. “You know, we can help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “No, this… this is my sacred mission. A mission I failed. And it is up to me to fix it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned her back to her friends, knowing full well she might never see them again. Tears built up in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rayne,” called Astarion, she turned her head, “try not to die, it would be a pity to have to clean my clothes from your blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled and turned back towards the enormous arc that constituted the entrance to the ruined temple.The seven stars of Mystra were broken, consumed, crumbled. She tried to imagine them how they were once, and whispered a short prayer to the Goddess. Nothing. She focused on the inner self, on the strength she needed to confront whatever laid in front of her. She finally felt the sweet light of Mystra encapsulate her, and crossed the threshold. The mushrooms dedicated to her Lady glowed to her passage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shadow of the man she loved slouched in front of the desecrated altar of the temple. The naves were scanned by broken columns and skeletons of the faithful. The shadow that was once the man she loved was still by the altar. Was he trying to feed on the Weave or corrupt it? She could not tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gale!” she called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shadow almost snapped and turned around to face her. She felt the tendril of darkness grow closer around her. Her first instinct was to bring her hand to the belt where her seven stars rested, but she resisted it. She did not try to unsheathe her staff. She would not falter. She was not here to fight, but to heal. The darkness embraced her, burning her skin under the clothes, as she traversed the central nave at a steady pace. The shadow lumbered forward, in an attempt to meet her halfway. Its hand extended forward and preceded its body, as they both walked towards the other. She stopped an inch from the shadows hand. She could smell the darkness, the corruption of the flesh, the petrified skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gale,” she repeated. The shadow stopped before touching her and lowered its hand. Its breath shook as if in trepidation. It was looking at her, listening. “You remember, you told me that sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shadow that was once Gale tilted its head. Rayne made a small gesture through her hands, and felt a small stream of Weave run through her. She recited the incantation and focused on this moment, on the man in front of her, on the little things she was fighting for. From her hands, a white rose bloomed, illuminating the distance that separated them. The shadow recoiled and screeched as if in pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, “just look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Its eyes, dark as infinite wells of ink, peered into the light of the rose. Rayne summoned her favourite little memories. Playing with Gale’s hair while he read with his head on her lap, in front of the fire. The time he cooked for her to butter her up and talk about his “condition”. Their first kiss under the stars on the bank of the Chionthar. Their fingers intertwined while he taught her to channel the weave. The feeling of his breath on her neck. The taste of spiced wine, and untold delights. She felt the tears run down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature extended both its hands and cupped them to receive the reverie from her. She let it go in its hands and saw it hesitate, raptured in the memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me heal you,” she whispered, “I can heal you, I promise you I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rayne…” the creature wheezed, and it had enough of Gale’s voice to make her sob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She summoned the silver flames in her hands. The tendrils of shadow withdrew from her skin, leaving burning scars, and she felt the sensation of the Weave being restored around her. It started from the corners of the temple, and moved in a circle towards them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the light finally engulfed them, she saw the shadows shrink away from his skin, restoring what once was the face she loved so much, his brown eyes, his soft hair. Almost all. She caressed his cheek, but his gaze was lost in the void.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She used her hands to constrain the darkness in an orb again, and encased it in silver flames. It would not escape from there. She would not let it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the temple was restored and the shadow vanquished, Gale’s body fell on the ground like a marionette. She screamed his name, and grabbed his robe, shook his chest, and tried to wake him. There was no more light in his fixed eyes. Gale was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne’s chest shook of sobs and tears as she laid on his unmoving chest hoping her desperation would bring him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please wake up, Gale, wake up,” she whimpered. To no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was gone, he was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the steps of her companions join her in the temple and run to her and then they suddenly stopped. There was a buzzing sound, as if the weave vibrated around her. She raised her head, and found back Gale staring at her from above. She looked down at the body, and then back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well met!” said Gale’s distorted voice, “I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you see this manifestation, that means I have prematurely perished.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Like real people do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Of all the things that could be said about Gale of Waterdeep, that he would get easily caught unprepared, was not one of them. He checked the pouch he always carried in the pocket by his heart out of habit, not that he would need it tonight. Hopefully. His book did have some pretty racy suggestions on how to spice up a night, and some of them could indeed be life threatening, but tonight was not that sort of night. Maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the results of his work in trepidation and a smile crept on his face. He had chosen a spot that was far enough from camp to be private, not quite far enough to be dangerous. The moon shone at its brightest on top of the small bend in the river he had picked. The river peacefully roared behind him, muffling sounds and providing a nice background for conversation. Crickets sang their melodies in the night. He had cast some dancing lights on the shore and lit some candles for the atmosphere, and also to avoid tripping on a root since the moon did not illuminate the clearing enough and he could barely see. A soft blanket he bought from Mattis at double the market price lay on the ground, on top of it a bedroll. Only for comfort, of course. No, he would be lying to himself if he claimed he didn’t hope to make use of it. Next to it, a dusty bottle of wine he had snatched from the party and a book. Perhaps the book was too much, she did not seem too into it after all. He did consider making the book disappear, but as he finished the thought, the foliage around the shore parted and Rayne entered the clearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her raven black curls fell on her shoulders from a low bun, caressing her neck and inviting him to do the same. She wore a white shirt and soft breeches, as she did during the party. All of the words he had prepared for the night, all the witty lines he had rehearsed, dissipated when her smiling lavender eyes met his. He bit his lower lip as she drew closer to him. Her smile made his dinner churn in his stomach. He remembered, at some point, that he had to say something. Anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope the party was everything you wished for,” that would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled, “You bet, I saw Astarion and Lae’zel making out in the bushes on the way here, it was quite the sight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did not wait for him to help her out and sat down on the bedroll, looking at the book he promised to discover with her. She ran her fingers on the worn leather cover of the book, and her smile fainted. Was she having second thoughts?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love this time of night,” he said, hoping to sway her mind from the book. She looked up to him and a trace of her smile returned on her lips. He sat down next to her, his heart fluttering as he blurted out some corny line that he regretted immediately. He almost expected her to stand up, turn on her heels and go back to camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love this time of night as well,” she said, and it was like millions of stars rained down in her eyes. He had to tell her though, didn’t he? He had to tell her everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You understand it then,” Gale said, and he lifted a hand to caress her jaw, “the timelessness of lovers: that most beautiful of fantasies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned in his hand, encouraging his touch. Her lips were so close, so inviting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right here, right now, it’s real,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost,” he sighed, and their lips met. As he tasted the memento of fruity wine on her tongue, her arms curled around his neck and her fingers traced his hairline under the ear. With a shiver, he gently leaned down on her, her back resting on the sleeping bag. He’d tell her on the morrow. Later. Not now. “Now it’s real,” he murmured while running down her neck with his lips, the sweet scent of her hair drowning his senses. He had a moment to save her body pressed onto his, because she retreated inexorably, from the kiss, holding his chest apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving away was like physical pain, but he caught himself before insisting, and lifted his body from hers. He looked at her with a puzzled expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually it all starts to feel a bit too real,” he read the panic in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knelt in front of her, “Isn’t what tonight is all about?” he asked, silently praying that she would not make it final, and at the same time preparing his heart to be torn from his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up and started fidgeting with her hands, her eyes lowered, “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you don’t have to!” he rushed to say, waving his hands in front of him, “Though I’d…” the weight of the words made him hesitate, “still love to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slouched and looked to the side, giving away a long sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s bothering you, Rayne?” he finally asked, daring to look at her straight even if it would mean letting her break his heart with a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face was shadowed by a grimace, as she continued to fret, her tail swayed restless to the side. Finally, she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “Those books, the one like you told me about earlier,” she said, “I know how they depict my people, especially women.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale tilted his head in confusion. “If that’s what you’re concerned about…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me finish, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words got caught in his throat. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the things they draw with our tail, and our horns,” she lifted her hand to touch her forehead out of reflex, “our tails don’t even do that! Some of those things hurt! I don’t want you to see me like one of those pictures, I don’t want to be a trophy, or an exotic adventure...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale shook his head in confusion. But it would have been naive of him, wouldn’t it, to not understand how that could be an issue for her. He should have known better, he should have done better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rayne, please listen,” he said, interrupting her panicked speech, and drew near her to gently cup her face in his hands, it was warm and her cheeks blushed, tinting her bluish skin. “I am sorry, it was…” he searched for the right word but, ironically, words eluded him, “insensitive of me to not consider this. But let me assure you, you are nothing like those pictures, to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked him right in the eyes, and Gale felt the weight of the silence that followed pull down his heart towards hers. The crickets chirped, the river flowed, only they stood still, on the verge of a decision. He almost did not notice when she grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled him forward, closing the distance between their bodies, in a long, desperate kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As their mouths intertwined, he found himself racing to hold her in his embrace, his fingers exploring, savouring even, every curve of her body, every unexpected cartilaginous bump. She moaned when he pulled down the neck of her shirt and his lips found one of her nipples, teasing it mercilessly. He drew her back, making her lay on the bedroll gently, limbs frantically fumbling to find a comfortable space, her legs finally settling around his hips, enveloping him in the heat of her body. The friction between skin, fabric and muscle was maddening. He wanted, no, he needed to somehow get rid of every layer in between. He stretched his back to reach her ear lobe, and nibble at it. She quivered under his touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You taste of untold delights,” he murmured in her ear, “let me conjure something to make this night even more memorable. I will make it so that you never forget this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had dreamt about this, planned for it, he had a thousand ideas. A rose petal scent, some romantic tune, maybe borrow a magic hand to pleasure her. As he raised his hand to cast mage hand, for starters, Rayne stopped him, and caressed his wrist and forearm under his sleeve. It was an everyday touch, but in this context, all of his body responded with a shudder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want, Gale?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart plummeted. Somehow, he never thought of that. Of all the things she could say, of all the things he planned for, he never thought she could care. He frowned. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>he want? He’d always been so focused on what others wanted of him, that the whole notion of desiring something for himself eluded him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” The words escaped his mouth without realising it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled, and to Gale, it felt like the earth swallowed them, and nothing in the world outside of this clearing mattered anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s discover it together, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kissed him with a hunger that surprised him, a desire he never felt, and Gale found himself getting lost in it, as she pushed him gently to the ground and straddled him. She lifted her shirt and laid it to the side. His hands reached out to her breasts, as Rayne bent down to kiss him again. Her hands undid the laces of his robe, exposing his heart to the cold of the night. They travelled, fingertips first, down through his chest, to his navel, further down, unyielding. Her fingers unraveled what little control he had, as he felt them trail below his waist. He did not remember his breeches being so constrictive and as she swapped the warmth of his clothes with that of her hands, a long sigh escaped his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about this?” she asked, as her lips and her tongue caressed the tip of his member in a tantalising kiss. He shivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That..:” a moan interrupted his sentence and his chain of thought, and he gave up offering a reply. He abandoned himself to her touch and her kisses until he felt himself looming over the point of no return. It took all his strength of spirit to pull her hair enough to take back control of himself. She looked at him with a triumphant smile and licked her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Allow me to return the gesture," he said, and rolled her to her back again, less gently than before. He somehow finally managed to get rid of his robe, his breeches, his boots, and hastily worked to get rid of hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowed down as she laid bare in front of him, her parted legs inviting him to explore her, and a lustful smile on her bluish lips. Gale looked at her, so shamelessly open and vulnerable, almost shining in the moonlight, and his heart fluttered. He saluted her freckles and lips with a distracted kiss, already too focused on the treasures that lay below. His lips, his tongue, indulged on her skin, on the ridges that led him down, down below her waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He parted her lips with his index and his caress made her quiver in trepidation under his touch. As he tasted her, savouring her gasps and moans, he felt her hands grab his hair and guiding him, leading him to compose a symphony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left her shuddering under his touch, and reached back up to kiss her on the mouth again. He had almost forgotten how her lips tasted. She lowered a hand, guiding him inside of her. He suffocated a moan in the slope of her neckline, as he started rocking deeper, and deeper inside of her. He lost himself into her breaths who came in quicker, and quicker until he couldn’t tell pain from pleasure anymore. All thoughts dissipated in the cold night air, until only the sweet warmth of release was all that remained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As their breathing and heartbeat slowed down, Rayne laid her hand on Gale’s shoulder, and slowly drifted to sleep. He inhaled the scent of her hair, and while the crickets kept chirping, the river kept flowing, a heavy feeling of guilt and sorrow dawned on him. On the morrow, he had to tell her his story. On the morrow he would lose her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. No light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Surely we can brave even this, side by side,” concluded Gale, looking at Rayne in search of any indications of what her mind held.</p><p>He had drowned her in words, hoping she would skim through the glaring guilt he carried, of not telling her of his story before they spent the night together. Instead, she had been silent almost all the time, asking the occasional question.</p><p>Gale had expected fury, maybe a scream, or the obligatory slap, possibly infused with some arcane magic. What he did not expect, were her grieving eyes piercing through him, her lips parted but unable to speak.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” she finally said, in a sliver of voice, “Why didn’t you trust me?”</p><p>Her words were an icy stab to his heart, more painful than anything she could have ever conjured to punish him.</p><p>He opened his mouth and regretted what came out of it right after. “I couldn’t do it before, I couldn’t ruin the chance for us to happen. You were there, how could I say no to you?”</p><p>She brought a hand to cover her mouth, “Was that your only concern? <em> Us </em>happening? What about me? What about my faith?” Her violet eyes held no light, there was no trace of the stars they reflected the night before.</p><p>Gale extended a hand towards her, but she recoiled from him, her tail lashing out as she withdrew.</p><p>“Rayne, please…”</p><p>“No, now it’s my turn to speak,” she interrupted him, “You knew Mystra was everything to me! You knew I gave everything to her, and yet you did not care about me potentially being punished for this. You say you could not risk me refusing you, and yet you did not hesitate to endanger my standing in the eyes of the Lady!”</p><p>“I assure you she has no interest in me, you do not risk any punishment,” he said, extending his arms towards her. She retreated before he could reach her.</p><p>“Was that what you were seeking in me? A way to get her attention back?” Rayne’s voice rose an octave, and she crossed her arms on her chest.</p><p>“Absolutely not!” He moved towards her again and she stood her ground. His hands almost reached her but he did not dare touch her and risk her retreating further, “Rayne, please, give me at least the benefit of the doubt. I would never…” she frowned, he groaned. He could not find the words, as much as he searched them, “I merely seeked a kindred spirit and I found it in you. You are unique in your own right and just as incomparable as…”</p><p>She shut him up with a gesture of her hand, and he complied. A growing anxiety in his chest, fueling the darkness inside. It hungered, it was eager. It was always watching.</p><p>“I need time, I cannot just tell you it will all be alright, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Can’t I persuade you to reconsider?”</p><p>She looked down, and shook her head, embracing her own body tighter.</p><p>“Just give me time.”</p><p> </p><p>As they returned to camp, everyone was getting reluctantly ready to depart again. Rayne walked ahead in silence and he followed. His body ached from the distance between them, the memory of the past night lingering on his skin. His heart wanted to reach out to her and hold her in his arms and beg her to forgive him. His mind knew that his feelings were foolish. </p><p>Shadowheart’s eyes were darker than usual, her cheeks sunken in from her hangover. Wyll was whistling a tune and sneaking a bottle of beer in his backpack. Lae’zel was polishing her blade and staring at Astarion, while the vampire spawn gazed at him intently as they entered the camp. He opened his mouth to say something, probably a snarky joke knowing him, and instead he closed it again seeing their expressions. His red eyes followed him as he approached his tent to prepare. Gale knew what would come after.</p><p>“I hope last night was pleasant,” Astarion said, sneaking up on him from behind. The wizard turned around. The rogue was fidgeting.</p><p>“How can I help, Astarion?” He knew the answer, but he was also aware of the complete lack of gratitude Astarion suffered from, so he indulged in letting him at least ask politely. Every time. It was a sweet ritual, and a proportionate retribution for the effort his aid required.</p><p>“As you probably already guessed, I ran out of those nifty little potions you brew, and I was wondering if you could procure more of them…”</p><p>Gale sighed and put his hands on his hips, glancing around the tent. They were out of herbs. “I’ll brew some for you this evening,” he said, and interrupted the contrived reaction of gratitude that Astarion made, “just remind me to grab some fresh ingredients if we happen to explore the woods or the abandoned village.”</p><p>Astarion gave him a pat on the shoulder, “I knew I could count on you,” he said, and his eyes analysed him as you would a prey.</p><p>“I need you to explain something to me, Astarion,” he said, as the vampire spawn was about to leave.</p><p>“Ask away,” he replied.</p><p>“I am not completely familiar with vampirism, but as far as I have observed you don’t sleep at camp. As all elves, you enter the state of trance that is widely called reverie. So what reason leads you to ask me for sleeping potions?”</p><p>Astarion pouted and hesitated, “You shouldn’t pry,” he finally said, in a cold tone, “but if you are really curious…” a sigh escaped the cold pale lips of the undead elf, “the sleeping potions don’t make me sleep, but they placate some less than pleasant dreams I am having.”</p><p>Gale nodded. It made sense. The potion inhibited dreams in humans, so it probably worked on elven physiology too. “I hope they bring you solace.”</p><p>Astarion bowed and quit the tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.</p><p>He looked outside. Rayne kneeled on her bedroll, she was packing her things before starting the day. Halsin, the druid leader, approached her. They started talking. He looked amiable… and attractive. The book he was holding fell from his arms with a thud, distracting him for a dangerous chain of thought. He rushed to catch it and tossed it in a crate. He would not need it today. The druid mentioned a trip the day before, and while he did not know the details, he knew he needed to travel lightly.</p><p>Gale finished packing his things, and then reached Rayne near the campfire. She was still talking to the impossibly tall and big druid. He drew close enough to listen to the conversation but he avoided interrupting. He needed to fix his mistake somehow. They were talking about Moonrise tower. Gale raised his brow. The road to Moonrise tower sounded quite dangerous according to this Halsin, and they had no cart or horses to make it more bearable. He had resigned himself to unbearable days of travel on foot, when the conversation ended, and Rayne turned to him. She gazed at him for an eternity, before saying:</p><p>“Gale, about last night…”</p><p>“It was wonderful, wasn’t it?” he asked. Maybe if she remembered the good parts about the night, she would forget about their fight earlier in the morning.</p><p>“Indeed.”</p><p>“Before we go on though,” he sighed, “let me apologise. To share such a night without telling you of a previous lover, knowing of your close relationship to Mystra too, it was not the most gentlemanly behaviour.”</p><p>She sighed, and lowered her eyes, “Perhaps it was a mistake.”</p><p>Gale’s heart stopped and sunk in his chest. “I promise you it wasn’t,” he said, before she could add anything. She looked back up at him, and she must have read his fear, because she sighed, shook her head, and left to rally everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>With the way North clear of goblins, they agreed to take the Risen Road and reach the Githyanki creche before moving forward towards Moonlight Towers. Lae’zel had insisted until Rayne caved in. It was, after all, on the way. The warrior led the way in the woods, and Rayne and Astarion followed right behind. He stayed back to gather the herbs for the rogue’s potions and to avoid talking to Rayne. It took the better half of the day to get near the bridge that crossed that branch of the Chiontar river. Maybe if he did give her more time, she would reconsider. He looked at her curls bounce at a distance, and tried to shake away the image of them cascading on her breasts, of the sweet scent of her hair and skin, of her hand caressing his chest. How could he be so foolish as to ruin something so beautiful? He frowned, and almost did not notice Lae’zel gesticulating in front of them.</p><p>The bridge was partially collapsed, of course. With their luck, the sun would decide to freeze in a week or so. While the three of them crafted a boardwalk between the two segments of stone bridge, Astarion sunbathed leaning on the balustrade.</p><p>“My dear,” he commented as they passed through to the other side, “you should try enjoying the sun more, it’s invigorating and you look so pale! I guess the lack of rest did not suit you well.”</p><p>The vampire spawn smirked at him, but Gale was too bothered by Rayne’s paleness to care. Her bluish skin did look clammy and feverish. Her forehead was spotted in tiny drops of sweat.  Was she unwell? Maybe she was only tired. They did not sleep much, after all.</p><p>Rayne’s nose crinkled up in a grimace, her freckles changing position as her skin moved. She was focused on something far beyond their group’s attention.</p><p>“Don’t you smell it?”</p><p>Everyone else became suddenly aware of the faint smell of smoke coming from the northern road. It must have been Waukeen’s rest, the tavern the goblins sacked a few days ago. Was it still burning?</p><p>They ran as if Zariel herself was on their tail. Somehow Rayne ran faster than Lae’zel, outdistancing all of them by a good measure. By the time Gale reached the inn, he barely managed to see Rayne’s silhouette enter the building in flames with a group of Flaming Fist men. Astarion and Lae’zel, next to him, hesitated.</p><p>As they started to argue that they should not get involved, Gale cast absorb elements on himself, and entered the building. Inside, the fire started looming on every wall, every corner, an unbearable hell for whoever was inside. His spell barely contained the heat, and his skin burned where it was exposed. He ran through the stairs as the men he saw entering got out with a noblewoman in tow. There was no trace of Rayne. He tried to ask one of the soldiers, but she screamed something about her staying behind. He did not hear it above the cracking sound of the flames consuming the wood.</p><p>The highest floor of the inn was already on the verge of collapsing as he ventured forward in the flames. He grimaced as the fire touched his skin, effectively burning it. Nevertheless, he pressed on. He heard a faint cough from the room to his right. He barely managed to enter it, and the entryway collapsed behind him. On the floor, a few metres from him, the kneeling shape of Rayne tried to lift a burning log from the lifeless body of a man. The room’s floor cracked under his weight, and he heard the beams on top of them creak dangerously. There was no time, the man was lost.</p><p>He rushed through towards Rayne and grabbed her. As he misty stepped with her in his arms and landed on the curb outside the tavern, he heard the ceiling collapse behind, where they had been standing.</p><p>Without thinking, he held the cleric tight to his chest, and as they slowly realised where they were again, he let go of her. She looked scared, teary, and hurt. Her arms skin was already getting covered in blisters, as his own skin was.</p><p>“Why didn’t you conjure water?” he said, looking at her right in the eyes. She lowered her gaze. “Rayne you could have died in there, what were you thinking, going in with no magical protection?”</p><p>She bit her lip, and did not reply, a grimace on her face. He lifted her chin with his fingers and wanted nothing more but to kiss her there and then. She looked up at him, and had tears in her eyes.</p><p>“Shall we get some healing and some rest?” he asked.</p><p>She shook her head. “That man there, he died,” she said, and the tears flowed on her cheeks. They must have burned because her grimace tightened, “it’s all my fault.”</p><p>“What are you saying? You tried to help.”</p><p>She continued to shake her head, “I could have saved him, I should have saved him.”</p><p>“Rayne,” said Gale, “why did you not conjure water to fight the fire?”</p><p>She looked him in the eyes, and Gale wished he could afford the luxury to die there and then, when she whispered, “Because I couldn’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When they reached back the camp, it was late afternoon. Gale nervously rubbed the blood of the githyanki they encountered at the bridge from his hands. The smell sickened him. They had no choice but to fight them and Gods, did they love close combat. His hands shook uncontrollably, so he tucked them under his armpits in a much needed embrace, and sat on a big log by the fire. Everything ached. There was no joint, no muscle, that was safe. Usually Rayne would lay her warm hands on all of them, one by one, and restore them before dinner. The first time she did it to Astarion he jumped, but he soon grew used to it and even if nobody said it out loud, it had become a pleasant ritual that everyone looked forward to. Not tonight, though. He would bathe, later, to soothe his muscles and wash away the smell of death, but for now he only wished to stay close to the fire and forget the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his eyes towards Rayne, who was not far, standing almost too close to the fire, her black ink curls swaying in the heat. There was something in her blood stained gaze that gave him goosebumps. He thought about saying something to her, but when he opened his mouth, Astarion interrupted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Gale,” he said in a loud voice so that everyone could hear, “I think you owe us an explanation. How did your magic dick break our healer, I wonder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale glared at him, only to find Wyll snickering in the background. He bit his own lip. He would not dignify this crass attempt at mocking with an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your mage hand explore too far, I wonder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she fall from your wizard tower?” timidly added Wyll, with a snicker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear if you two don’t shut up I will blind you both!” sneered Shadowheart, leaving her usual spot away from camp. She grabbed Rayne by her arm and led her away from the others, near the shore of the river.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the two clerics chattered, too far to be heard, Gale had to endure Astarion’s antics. Lae’zel glared at them all, clearly fed up by the noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your colour spray hit her in the eyes?” asked the vampire spawn after a pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right mate, I think Gale has had enough of our puns,” said Wyll, still giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale gazed at the fire, then back at the shore. The druid, Halsin, muscle and all, had joined Rayne and Shadowheart. His jaw tensed. The bear man looked very supportive. A bit too much, perhaps. He frowned. There was something in this whole matter that did not quite make sense. Because of the conspicuous sense of disappointment and abandon he felt any time he tried to draw from the Weave, he was sure that Mystra had nothing to do with this. He had given up on forgiveness, but he would know if he had angered her further. The Weave was silent and cold to his touch as ever. And she had no guilt, the Lady would not punish one of her faithful for something so trivial, for someone so unimportant to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done frowning in that corner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shadowheart’s voice brought him back to reality. She was frowning herself. Gale looked around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I enquire as to where Rayne has gone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shadowheart shrugged and waved at him, ever condescending.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She decided to repent by restoring Selune’s temple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By herself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The healer accompanied her because he’s fresh and rested, unlike the lot of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am going to assume you did not follow to not enrage your goddess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You assume correctly,” she said, “are you not going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale looked absent-mindedly at his own hands, encrusted in blood and dirt. Would she even want him there? Besides, she already had someone to protect her. That Halsin was big and certainly better for her, should she choose him instead. And yet. Yet, the whole notion of being abandoned by her tore him apart from inside out. He could not stand it, could he? He turned around to give an answer to Shadowheart, but she already left. He went to the river to freshen himself up. His reflection looked at him, distorted by the ripples in the water. He tried to smoothen his frown to look more casual. He failed. With a sigh, he dipped his hands in the stream and washed them, then used them to wash the weariness of a long day from his face, his neck. No scent of lavender oil to soothe his spirit here. He thought of home. His cat purring in his lap, the fireplace cracking at night, a nice glass of wine, clean, soft clothes, a good book. And the unwavering darkness inside of him. It clenched his heart, as a hand squeezing it from inside and interrupting that sensation of safety and comfort. He needed to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked in the dark, traversing the lonely woods with his staff faintly illuminating the way. The forest was empty, save for the occasional critter lurking in the bushes and some nocturnal birds. As he approached the camp, the scent of burning flesh assailed his nostrils. He almost gagged from being reminded of the dwarf roast of only a few days ago and of today’s fire. As he approached the bridge to the goblin encampment, he found Halsin throwing garbage and goblin corpses into the fire.The hulking figure of the druid almost towered over the pyre. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening!” he said, approaching him from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The druid turned around and squinted. His gargantuan form flexing as he put his hands on his hips. The elf head towered over his. He was certainly not used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gale of Waterdeep? Well met, I did not expect to see you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale stretched his arms behind his back and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came to see how our own healer fares. Could you perhaps point me in her direction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halsin pointed with his big arm towards the temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s inside, preparing the restoration ritual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is good of you to help her cleanse the temple. I am sure that Mystra’s smile will shine on you for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The druid smiled. “I don’t do it for the gods, my friend. I do it for the people. While the gods look down on us from afar, it’s the people and the creatures that exist here and now that need help. And by serving them, I also serve the gods. Your cleric is a brave and kind woman, she deserves all the support I can give.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is and she does,” Gale replied, “If you’ll allow it I will go lend her aid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halsin nodded and went back to clearing up the camp. Gale crossed the courtyard of the temple slowly, considering what he could say or do. Maybe he could help her with his magic, or by channeling the weave. Maybe she would let him hold her close to his chest. He traversed the doors of the temple left ajar, only to smell the familiar scent of rosewater. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne’s armour and boots laid on one side of the entrance. She wore only breeches and the blue tunic that usually protected her skin from the lining of the armour. She knelt in front of the magnificent statue of Selune in ruins. Her tail swayed slowly in the cold air of the hall. In her hands her holy symbol, Mystra’s star, and another jewel he did not recognise. As he drew closer, though, he felt the strong presence of the Weave inside of the necklace she was holding. The monster inside him awoke, saliva building up in his mouth in anticipation. It was hungry, as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale recognised a prayer in Rayne’s whispers. He waited for her to finish and open her eyes to approach her. She looked at him with her wide lavender eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gale?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated, “I thought perhaps I could give you some assistance, since my actions brought this pain on you. As someone wise once said to me, every burden is easier to carry when shared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled, and laid the trinkets on the ground. He helped her stand up. He could feel the natural heat of her body next to him, exalted by the cold draft that passed through the temple and its underground areas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your help is really appreciated,” she said, tucking her curls behind her pointy ear, “I mean to cleanse this temple of the Absolute’s influence, I’m afraid it could take all night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale took her hand in his, intertwining his fingers with hers. His heart started beating faster when she did not move away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will stay here for as long as you need me,” he said, “But maybe I can aid you in a more proactive fashion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you have in mind?” her warm breath caressed his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot shake off my head the night we shared a moment in the Weave together,” he said. She tilted her head and waited for him to continue. “The ease with which you followed my instructions and channeled the Weave…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I studied the arcane arts at the temple,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, “Would you try again without me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked twice, puzzled, “Without you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale reluctantly left her hand to show her a subtle gesture with his hand, and whispered, “Ignis.” A small flame was conjured in his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I even…?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you summon your divine powers, what do you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought about it for a second, “I focus on Mystra, on her grace and generosity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you tried focusing on yourself, on the grace and generosity of Mystra that lay inside of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it would work…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please indulge me,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed, and gracefully repeated his gesture, “Ignis,” her lips spelled, and after a few seconds, a small spark of flame appeared in her hand. It was faint, it was shaky, but it was undoubtedly there. She screamed and shook her hand, breaking the concentration necessary to keep the spell going. She took a step back and looked at him wide eyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” she cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A spell,” he smiled. So that was it, the anomaly in her spell-weaving. The exception to all rules. She was not a simple cleric, not quite. There was a seed of divine, innate, raw energy behind her devilish appearance. Something so rare, so pure. “So it appears the Lady hasn’t abandoned you after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked down at her hand, then back at him. She seemed to think for a minute, then incapable of formulating a sentence, she laid her hand on him. She closed her eyes, whispered a few words, and he felt the current of healing magic cross his body, restoring his burns, healing him from inside out. “It worked,” she murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale raised his hand to hold hers against his chest, brushing his thumb against her fingers. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his robe and pulled him closer until their lips met. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-don’t you need to restore the temple?” he asked, as her fingertips parted the folds of his robes and progressed to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later, we have all night for that,” she breathed by his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shiver of pleasure and anticipation shook his body. He did not need her to repeat it twice. Gale seized her body with his arms and fingers, embracing, grasping, sighing, moaning. In the span of a few minutes he found himself hovering on top of her on the floor, mostly undressed, in a flourish of limbs and gasps and kisses. She did not seem bothered by the cold stone under her body, instead, she enveloped his hips with her legs to draw him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale gently pulled her hair to expose her neck and her breasts from beneath the tunic now torn open on her chest, and trailed her sternum with light kisses, until he found a nipple. A long moan accompanied his lips as they playfully caressed her breasts. As he started to move down towards her navel, she pulled his hair back delicately. When he looked up in an inquisitive glance, she shook her head and pulled him up and pushed him down again, with his back on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hastily removed her breeches and straddled him. He just had the time to send a quick glance to the entrance of the temple to check if they were still alone, before her warmth overwhelmed him. He buried a moan on her chest as he lifted his back to hold her close and get rid of her tunic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne danced on top of him, relentlessly exacting faster and faster breaths from him, as the heat of her body and her movements drew him closer and closer to the edge of reason. Gale ran his hands on her back and thighs in an almost desperate attempt to regain control, but it was too late. And as she abandoned herself onto his chest, moaning in pleasure, he lost himself completely in her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale’s mind wandered incoherently for a few minutes, as she laid on top of him exhausted and he curled her hair around his fingers. And as his thoughts recovered a semblance of meaning, he caught his thoughts going back to home, his wizard tower, his books. And he realised that scenery would never be complete again without her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Intertwined</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rayne was engulfed in darkness. There was no light in this abyss and the sound did not escape her mouth when she tried to scream. She swam upwards against the currents. As she breathed, the shadow entered her nostrils and mouth, and suffocated her. In the moment she thought she had lost all the air in her lungs, she began to fall. She landed mid air on the shore of a river. It was the Chiontar. It was where she laid with Gale, two nights ago. She dived in the earth with her feet and looked around. She had to raise her eyes to meet those of a gigantic woman on the other side of the shore. The Goddess stepped forward, and instead of stepping on her, she shrunk to human size, and landed in front of her, on the shore. Her dark smooth hair danced on her hips and shoulders. Her eyes were stars in the night. She was Mystra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne almost fell to her knees, and did not have the courage to look her in her eyes, until the Goddess touched her chin and lifted it. Her divine warmth irradiated from her fingers to her body, like a motherly embrace and a lover’s caress at the same time. Rayne had no chance but to look at the infinity that was in her eyes. The cacophony of knowledge and magic reflected in her eyes was deafening and blinding at the same time, like a million years lived, and all the spells of the universe, resided in the limited space of her pupils. It out-shined her mortal form, and the cleric could not take her eyes off them, completely lost in the firmament of magic that was inside of the Goddess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rayne,” a multitude of voices whispered in her ear, permeating the air around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at your service, my Lady,” she said, trying and failing to let go of the Goddess’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My child,” she sighed, and stood, towering over her crouching form. Silent as the night sky that she embodied. Her all consuming eyes suddenly looked melancholic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I did not mean to disobey you or stray from the quest you assigned me, Lady. I erred by ignorance, not malice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are exactly where you are meant to be, my child,” she said, “Only at night the stars come out and show us the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you not punish me for…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The seed of light that is in you needed the night to bloom, my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne shook her head. The Goddess lifted her hand and clenched it. Something in her chest resonated with the gesture and started to pulse in rhythm with Rayne’s heart. It was silver, and it shone inside her chest, warming her soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Save him, my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She woke up holding the Selune artefact, kneeling. The floor was cold. The air was cold. Nevertheless, a divine peace permeated the temple. The only sound was that of the currents running from the underground to the doors, and of the creaking cages that still adorned the halls. This sacred place would heal, given time, and the faithful maybe would come back again one day. A tepid morning light shone on her from the cracks in the roof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked behind her. Gale was still sleeping on an improvised cot. He opened one eye tentatively when he heard her shuffle in place. He smiled when their eyes met. She smiled back. She had to save him, but from what? And how?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are exactly where you are meant to be,” had said the goddess. And as Gale stretched and started to look for his robes, she felt exactly that way. She crawled next to him, and interrupted her research to find refuge in the warmth of his chest and arms. He held her without protesting and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She listened in on his heart as she appreciated that moment of quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something for you,” she finally said with a grin. She lifted her hand and showed him the Selune’s necklace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used it to restore the temple,” he said. His eyes lingered on the piece of jewelry and he bit his lips. “It doesn’t seem fair…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne left the necklace in his hands, and closed it with hers, “Still, if you need it it’s here. It is your choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are too generous, my lady,” he said with a wink and toyed with the necklace between his fingers. They started to get dressed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dreamt of Mystra tonight,” she said, eyeing Gale’s reaction. He tensed as he put on his shirt, and then his robe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you? And did she say anything useful?” about him, he meant. And she had. But she could not tell him, could she? Her sacred mission was her own. She alone was meant to go through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said something about a seed of light inside me, I’m not sure what she meant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gale nodded, and when she looked at him puzzled, he shook his head, “I have a few theories but it would be useless to speculate on it now that we’re on the road. We would need to do more tests. It’s best to wait until we’re back to civilization.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne smiled, and briefly embraced him again, making sure to note the scent of his skin and hair so that it would keep her company during the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go get the others. Halsin said there’s an entrance to the Underdark here, and I think I found it while I was cleaning up. It’s probably safer to get to Moonrise Towers through here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fret, I will stay here and delve into this building further to see if I can find anything of interest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne left Halsin and Gale behind, and returned back with her party. When they crossed the main hall before descending into the underdark, she noticed the amulet of Selune at the base of her statue, untouched. She gazed at Gale. He smiled. A deaf anguish started to grow in her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne vanquished the Reverie with a swift gesture as soon as she heard Gale groan on the cot they had set up in the ruins of this subterranean temple of Mystra. She turned towards him, awakened from her memories, and caressed his forehead gently, moving away a strand of hair and tucking it behind his ears. Beads of sweat had formed on his skin from the fever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After his bizarre protocol they had managed to resurrect him, but that had not, for some reason, mended the damage he had suffered while he was a creature of darkness. Rayne had spent all her healing spells to help him, but had not quite succeeded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astarion opened the folds of the tent and peeked through. He looked oddly concerned, his white brows arched downwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he woken up?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne shook her head. “Not yet,” she said, “I’m afraid your potions will have to wait a little while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be ridiculous,” he groaned, backing out of the tent that she set up for privacy while trying to cure Gale, “I’m not that desperate for potions yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne smiled, and Astarion’s cheeks blushed before he walked away and the tent's entrance closed behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was caressing his face when Gale finally opened his eyes. He did so with a long gasp, searching for the missing air in his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could not avoid smiling, as she said, “Welcome back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alive!” Gale exclaimed, “I’m alive! Ha! How is this possible, how did it happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne sat silently next to him as she watched him reconstruct from his scarce memories what had happened, and a surprised and elated look met her gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mystra, I saw her! I saw her! She was draped in silverfire!” As her smile faded, an understanding look settled on Gale’s face.  “It wasn’t Mystra, though, it was you, was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne frowned. The tone of his question stabbed her in the heart and his disappointment was lodged there now, as she was unable to get rid of the uneasiness of her own realisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s nonsense. I am not a chosen one, Gale, I can’t use silverfire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t play me for a fool, Rayne, I know what silverfire looks like,” he said, and raised his hand to pull her and get her attention. He looked surprised from the bandages that covered completely his arm and his shoulder. He looked at her, asking an unspoken question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not manage to heal you completely, your arm was too damaged,” she said, touching it lightly. It was hard to the touch, but not quite as petrified as it was before, “Basilisk oil helped a great deal, but I am not powerful enough to heal you yet. Maybe someone in Baldur’s Gate…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we changing the subject then?” he said, tilting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne lowered her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think I deserve to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rayne nodded. It was her turn to tell him a story.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Ready</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This city” the Elder said, while clinging to Rayne’s arm and ascending the steep steps that climbed onto Dusthawk Hill, “it doesn’t welcome us as other places with a more established tradition of faith do, little one.” The man stopped, and took a breather for a few seconds, before returning to the climb, “Nevertheless, we must persist.  The Gate is in dire need of guidance, lest it becomes a city of complete perdition. The powers, the forces that operate here need to be channeled towards progress and enlightenment under the scrutiny of our Lady, or we will lose them to darker paths.”</p><p>“Darker paths?” asked Rayne, putting her hand on the Elder’s, to help him climb the last steps to the top of the hill.</p><p>“Shar’s, or even… even worse. We believe we vanquished the Dead Three, but are gods truly ever really gone?” Elder Ascott Whiteye looked at her with his sharp grey eyes, of which one had whitened, hence the name, and frowned, “their will, their purpose is never really gone, and corruption is a powerful impulse, little one.”</p><p>“Elder, can we ever be rid of them?” she asked, glancing at the spectacle of the starry sky diving into the harbour’s black waters.</p><p>“Rayne, my dear, darkness can never be vanquished. We can only hope to sway it into serving a greater good.”</p><p>Rayne arched her brows, perplexed, and helped him up to the edge of the cliff, where a small crowd had gathered for the ceremony of the constellations. Around twenty people, among whom some couples and a few families with children, were sitting on the dewy grass, waiting for the Elder to start.</p><p>She smoothed the white trim of her blue clerical robe that bore the symbol of Mystra and covered her tail. She assisted the Elder with his reagents for the ritual. He kneeled in the middle of a circle of white stones, closed his eyes, and started chanting an incantation. As she backed away from the ritual circle, Rayne adjusted her wide hat, which let her curly hair poof out and cascade down on her shoulders, and hid, for the most part, her devilish features. When he fell silent, the sky went dark for a few seconds then some of the stars started to shine brighter than normal.</p><p>“We start our exhibition with Mystra’s Star Circle” said the man, and a circle of seven stars which was very faint shone bright to the forefront of the night sky. Rayne couldn’t help but open her mouth in awe, even if she had witnessed the ceremony many times, “It is said that our Lady of Mysteries owns a castle at the centre of the circle. But we observe it tonight to show her our gratitude and send her our love and devotion.”</p><p>As Rayne looked at the stars, she saw them shift and spin around the centre. The night sky around her swallowed the entire hill and the people near her. She lowered her gaze and met another woman’s eyes. They were blue as the deep sea of the harbour, but when shadows passed on them, they became dark and speckled with lights as the night sky. She did not need to fish in her memories or knowledge to recognise her, she knew when their eyes met, by instinct. She was Mystra, her goddess. Rayne fell on her knees and lowered her eyes in a display of humility, as the goddess approached her.</p><p>“Arise, my child,” she said, with the voice of a thousand souls, “your eyes should always look upwards, to the stars.”</p><p>Rayne obeyed and as she raised her eyes she noticed that the goddess had disappeared. In her place there was a man who stood with his back towards her. He bore shoulder length brown hair and wore a robe. A wizard, maybe? His shoulders were wide and his hands had long, delicate fingers. He was no labourer. Beyond him, she could see a view of Baldur’s Gate from the north. She could see Blackgate in the distance, letting in a stream of travelers. Was he coming from that direction? Waterdeep possibly? Or maybe even Neverwinter. Or, but it was a long way from home, Silverymoon. That would have been so exotic. She grabbed his arm to force him to face her, but when she did, the vision faded away.</p><p>She found herself back on the top of Dusthawk Hill, as Elder Whiteye was finishing his ceremony. “And these are the Woman Warrior and the Centaur,” he said, “ever so often they align and their swords cross. There are tales about powerful magical effects unleashed when this happens. For instance…”</p><p>As the Elder continued telling the tale of Vajra Valmeyjar and Timoth Eyesbright, Rayne started cleaning up the clearing. Soon the ceremony would be over and Elder Whiteye would want to return to the tower quickly.  The senile man’s silver hair were falling down more copiously than in the previous years. He would soon become unable to fulfill his duties. What would become of the enclave then? Her thoughts went to the young pupils that he took out of the streets, like he did with her many years ago, when she pressed her nose against the window of his study to observe his collection of magical artefacts. What would happen to them? She would have to succeed him, wouldn’t she?</p><p>She looked around. Nobody seemed to have noticed her temporary lapse of consciousness. They were all focused on the old man. What should she make of this vision?</p><p>She had the chance to ask the Elder as they climbed down the hill, slowly trailing behind everyone else after the ritual was over. He turned to the side and observed her, scanning her face for the tell of a lie. He must have ended up believing her, because his answer was serious.</p><p>“I believe you have been given your first sacred quest, little one.”</p><p>“Do you think I am ready? That I am worthy?” she asked, tightening her grip on his arm. She did not feel neither ready nor worthy.</p><p>“What I believe, dear Rayne, is irrelevant,” he said, lowering his eyes to follow the shape of the step more attentively. His face had turned sour, “the Lady has chosen you for this task, so you have been judged worthy and ready. Do not disappoint her.”</p><p>“Who do you think the man of the vision is? An emissary? A powerful archwizard? How will I recognise him?”</p><p>He chuckled and patted the hand holding his arm, “You will know when it’s time. The Lady will show you. Have faith.”</p><p>She lowered her gaze, her stomach hurt with disappointment, because she did have faith. Faith was, in fact, all she had. What she was lacking was information.</p><p>“I thought she’d give me more instructions,” she said, finally, as the bushes were replaced by the first houses of the outer city. They had quite a long way to go, still.</p><p>“The Lady gives you only the instructions you need, little one. The real test of faith is seeing what you do with them.”</p><p>She nodded. There was always wisdom in Elder Whiteye’s teachings.</p><p>*</p><p>The morning after, she woke up to Marla, the keeper of their Enclave, going through her things and tossing some necessities in her backpack. The sturdy blond woman smiled when she saw her wake up, her green eyes opening up in a smile. The dormitory was empty, it must be late. Not that it was unusual. The trip from Duskhawke Hill to the enclave took a long time.</p><p>“There you are,” she said, putting her closed fists on her hips as she straightened up, “always an owl, you. I had hoped that getting your sacred quest would make you a bit more responsible, but I guess it can’t be helped.”</p><p>Rayne moved her curls away from her face with a gesture, and yawned, “Marla, I’m sorry, we got here pretty late yesterday night.”</p><p>The young tiefling stood up when the woman replied with a distracted hum, and started exchanging her night robe for her day clothes, and as she approached a simple doublet, the keeper handed her a ring mail instead. She wore the brigandine under it,and tied it up with a belt. Was the keeper expecting her to fight her way north?</p><p>“Just in case,” she said, then went back to the entrance of the room, where she recovered an object from her bag. “I’ve kept this for a moment such as this, Rayne.”</p><p>She handed her a long, rigid case. As the cleric opened it her mouth parted. It contained seven steel stars, Mystra’s stars. Rayne hugged Marla tight thanking her profusely. It was a treasure, an important gift. The woman’s cheeks turned red.</p><p>“You trained for this moment all your life, it’s time you go out in the world and use all your talents to truly serve the Lady.”</p><p>“I will make you proud,” she whispered against her ears as she hugged her.</p><p>The floor below the dormitory hosted a classroom. She passed through it as the pupils started their lecture, with the usual noise of quill against paper. Ascott Whiteye gave her a quick smile and a wave of his hand as she saw her descend. His eyes were misty with undisclosed tears.</p><p>She traversed the common room, where a handful of older acolytes were still having a simple breakfast of porridge and dry fruits. They waved at her, unknowing of the fact that she was leaving the city. She preferred it like that. She hated goodbyes. She hated the idea of abandoning them.</p><p>Finally, she passed the exhibition rooms, filled to the brim with artefacts that were salvaged from nearby ruins and open to the public. Two Mystic Fire Knights stood guard. If anyone were to rob the enclave, it would cause a great deal of pain to the Elder, who had spent all his life establishing the Baldurian chapter of the church of Mystra, which was currently hosted in a rented towerhouse. She remembered her first time entering the tower upon the Elder’s suggestion. He had seen her from beyond the window, ogling at the artefacts in awe. She had never seen so much beauty all at once, so used to the horrors of the orphanage. Who knows what she would have become if the Elder hadn’t welcomed her. She hesitated with a sigh, before opening the big wooden entrance door one last time. She left the knights with a brief salute, forsaking what had been her home for the past twenty years.</p><p>When she traversed the northern gate, marching towards her first adventure, she looked back at the city that had been her home up until now, its bell towers and harbours. She could not imagine her week would end unexpectedly down East, by the Chiontar river, sharing a campfire with the man from her vision.</p>
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